We

My mother in law is planning a visit for later this month.  She called tonight to hash out the details.  Ella is wailing from the other side of the room “I don’t want Grandma J to come!!  Tell her to stay home!”

So, maybe I need to lay off on the “Stephen’s mother makes me crazy” talk.  At least around Ella.

In some developmental psych sort of way, Ella is probably relating the invasion of the grandparents to Stephen being sick.  His mother was on death-watch a full 4 months before she needed to be.  She *did* take her FMLA leave from work and sit around the house waiting for us to call and need her.  Which we didn’t (need or call) until after her leave was used up.  And his mom rarely sees the girls.  Even before all this it was 3 or 4 times a year for a weekend.  She said tonight that she feels like she doesn’t know them.

I have to say that it’s true but not because I haven’t tried.  I/we have taken them to see her three times for every one time that she’s been here.

But this isn’t about her.  It wasn’t supposed to be.

It was supposed to be about taking the littles to the pool.  About how Amelia has gotten over her fear of the water.  About how Ella just wants me to leave Amelia at home so we can go down the slides.  It’s about how I keep running into people that I haven’t seen in a while.  Parents of Ella’s classmates.  The midwife who was with me when I was in labor with Amelia.  People from church.  And we talk. 

“How do you like Ella’s preschool?” someone may ask.  “We really like it.  We think they are doing a good job with her.”

Or “Have you been to Disneyworld yet?”  My response?  “We are waiting until the girls are a little older so they can remember it.”

The “we“?  I catch myself correcting all the time.  When is that going to stop?  When will I remember that we don’t make decisions anymore?  That it’s me, all me.  Good and bad.  Me.  Not we. 

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